Revenge Without Lifting a Finger
by SocksXMittens
Summary: Rachel Berry had always told those who put her down in high school that she'd have her revenge by becoming a famous Broadway star. Turns out, she was right.


Revenge Without Lifting a Finger:

"Hello ladies and gentleman. It's the night of the Oscars, and I'm your ET host, Ryan Seacrest. We have an exciting night tonight. We have the Fashion Police recapping tonight's wardrobe hits and misses. We have Guilliana on the red carpet. Most exciting of all, with me tonight backstage, is 5 time Tony winner and 6 time winner at tonight's Oscar Awards; and only 26, Mrs. Rachel Berry." Rachel smiled over at Ryan Seacrest, and then turned her smile to the multiple camera's set up backstage. She smoothed her deep purple silk dress over her knees and turned back to Ryan.

"So, Rachel, how do you feel?"

"Honored, is my first thought. Talented is my second," Rachel joked. Ryan laughed, nodding his head.

"You won 6 awards tonight for your performance as Elphaba in the movie adaptation of Wicked, how does it feel to know you took home the most awards tonight?" Rachel took a deep breath.

"It always feels incredible to know my work and effort is recognized and to know that the people enjoy it, is incredibly flattering. I had my husband periodically pinch me after I gave my third acceptance speech, just in case this was a dream." Rachel turned her head a fraction to look over Ryan's shoulder at said husband. He was lounging lazily against a steel pillar, looking as if he wasn't wearing a very expensive tuxedo and at a world renowned event. But that was her husband for you. Nothing rattled him. He was just as comfortable in a tuxedo as he was in sweatpants or his firefighting suit. He nodded at her when he caught her looking, flexing one of his arms and making her laugh.

"Speaking of your husband, you guys have been together a long time?" Ryan turned the interview personal with an ease only many years on camera could give someone in an interview. Rachel sighed and tucked her hair back over her shoulder.

"Since high school actually. We got married three years ago. It hasn't always been easy, but we work in a way that...is hard to explain to people who don't know us." Rachel ducked her head, embarrassed by her inability to describe her relationship with the man she loved more than any other thing on the planet, including singing. "He used to torment me, back in the beginning of high school, and then, I guess my natural charm wormed its way into his heart" She smiled over at her husband and winked. He winked back. "After years of obstacles such as ex-boyfriends, teenage pregnancies and almost-weddings, the high school jock fell in love with the nerdy outcast. It's almost cliché, like a John Hughes movie, how we ended up together." Rachel and Ryan laugh, her husband smirking over the host's shoulder.

"You've always been candid about your time in high school, calling yourself an outcast, a loser; you've never tried to hide your past. Why is that?" Ryan's questions caused Rachel's chest to constrict. She'd hated high school. Glee had been the only reason she'd survived it, and she needed to honour those who helped her through it, not hide them.

"I hated high school. I was bullied constantly, had slushies thrown in my face every day. It was hell. But it made me even more determined to make something of myself, to escape that place and show them I wasn't a loser. I refuse to lie about my experiences for two reasons. One, if I help even one person by showing them high school doesn't define them, that they can and will escape the torment that is high school; then I win. If one person who follows my interviews or watches one of my plays or movies, sees how successful and happy I am and knows where I comes from, thinks "if she can do it, so can I!", then everything I went through was worth it. Second, I met the most creative, wonderful, kind, funny, talented people I know in high school. They made everything better. They made me stronger, they made me a survivor. If I hide who I was in high school, I would disappoint them and dishonour the family we built. The members of my high school Glee club deserve to be honoured, because they allowed me to be who I was. We may not have started out as friends, but in the end, I cherish every moment I had with them." Rachel had tears in her eyes at the end of her little speech. Ryan gave her a moment to compose herself by plugging her latest Broadway production and another movie, both of which premiered next month. Rachel smiled gratefully.

"You've been very open about your history with bullying, and with your advocacy work with Kids Help Phone and the anti-bullying bill currently being pushed through congress. You've also worked with other celebrities such as Kurt Hummel and Mercedes Jones, the designers of the KM line, as well as the New York Assistant DA Santana Lopez. You are all strongly against bullying and have donated your time and money to the cause. What keeps this issue so close to your heart?" Rachel laughed. Tana would love the free publicity this got their new campaign.

"As I mentioned, I was bullied. But more than that, I watched people I cared deeply about be tormented for being gay, for being talented, for being different. I knew how it affected me, the toll it took to get up every day and know it would never change. High school may be over for me, but kids just like me are still going through it. I bring the spotlight to an issue that's previously gone unchecked. Teachers in my school stood by and let the jocks, the popular kids tease and taunt and even physically assault those lower on the academic totem pole. I refuse to allow that to keep happening. Kurt, Mercedes, Santana and I created the Blue Movement, where people all over North America come together and discuss issues such as bullying, as well as high light the effects and consequences. It also helps train educators and students the proper way to deal with bullying, both verbal and physical. We've also created a website where kids can go and ask questions, get advice, even post videos of their skills and talents without fear of criticism." Rachel paused, took a deep breath. "I've been personally involved in the suicide prevention hotline as well in New York. My husband funds a teenage crisis centre, and often visits with his fellow firefighters. The kids get a kick out of him in full gear." Rachel sighed dreamily. They weren't the only ones.

"Alright, last question. If you could say anything to the kids who bullied you in high school, what would it be?" Rachel was taken aback for a second. She'd dreamed about being asked this question back in high school. How she would call out each and every person who'd ever put her down, who'd ever ruined her day by throwing a slushie in her face or by pushing her into lockers. But she'd put old resentments to bed a long time ago; mostly due to the man standing on the sidelines for her right now. This man had seen her through every audition, every rejection, every show, every high and every low. Even now he knew what she was thinking, smirking at her struggle. She smiled.

"You know," she laughed, "I'd have had a lot to say back in high school. However, I'm no longer that girl. To those who put down a young Rachel Berry, and you do know who you are, I have only this to say. If you were wrong about me, what and who else might you have been wrong about? Think about that the next time you judge someone." Rachel frowned gently, thinking of Kurt and Blaine, Santana and Brittany. It didn't matter how in love they were, people still called it wrong. She thought of Mercedes and Sam, who turned heads, even these days, with their inter-racial marriage. She thought of Tina and Mike, their two wonderful boys, and all of the stereotypes they heard every day. She thought of Artie, is in his wheelchair and all the places he'll never go because people refused to believe he could. "This world is hard enough without people turning on each other and making it harder. I made my dreams come true, despite the people who tried to stop me," she paused thoughtfully, an evil impulse coming over her. "Oh, and I've also used my success to help my friend's careers and projects, too bad you weren't nicer to me!" With a slightly vengeful smirk, Rachel nodded and turned to look at Ryan. He just laughed

"Well said. Congratulations again, on your wins tonight Rachel, I'm sure we'll be seeing you again very soon." Rachel leaned into hug him.

"Thank you for having me." She placed her microphone on her seat, then being given the cue to leave, walked slowly over to her husband. He smiled down at her, clasping his large hands over her hips with a familiarity that spoke of their years together.

"Did I tell you how smoking hot you look tonight?" His voice was deep and just a little raspy. It still sent shivers down her smile. She leaned against his broad chest and smiled up at him through her bangs. "And how hot it is to see you getting even without trying?" At this she laughed.

"Oh, once or twice," she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck, easier to do now that she was wearing three inch heels. He lifted a hand from her waist and wrapped it around her left hand. He tapped her wedding band. She already knew what he was going to say next, since he said it every interview and introduction he heard.

"You know, they always get your last name wrong. They really should know by now that it's not Berry," he growled into her ear, snuffling at her neck and making her laugh.

"It's my stage name, that's all." She reassured him. "You know I love it when people call me by your last name, but it was just easier to use mine in Hollywood and on Broadway." He just smiled.

"I know. It's just not your name anymore. I like hearing people calling you by my name. It sounds right, sounds like your mine." Rachel smiled up into his dark eyes.

"I am yours." Rachel knew that like she knew the words to "Rain on my Parade".

"Well then, now that we've cleared that shit up, can we please, please hit up Elton John's after-party now? I hear he has the new, unreleased Guitar Hero as a party favour." Her husband's eyes were pleading, his lower lip pouting slightly. Rachel laughed at his pretending to be pathetic.

"Yes, Noah. We can go." With that they turned, hands clasped, and walked off.

"Lead the way...Mrs. Puckerman."

END!

So...did you figure out who Rachel's husband was before I said it? I tried to be sneaky about it...but pretty sure I failed epically at it!

Love! SxM


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